I'm back!

It's been awhile since I posted anything on my blog. I am totally blaming this on my english class this last semester. It made me dislike writing for a bit and the forced papers really just ticked me off. I am back now though but WARNING: I am taking english 2 for this coming semester so bare with me. haha. I don't even know how to sum up the last 3 months. I'm actually looking back at my last blog post to see where I left off ha! Well, I'll start with my lungs.

The last few doctor visits are a bit hazy in my head. My most previous visit left me with no change at all. The visit before that one I remember a bit more. Something happened that has never happened to me before in all 18 years. I cried in the testing room. Up until about a year ago I didn't know what the numbers all meant on the screen in front of me. It was all confusing so I never bothered to ask. Now I know what to look for and which numbers mattered most. After my first blow I immediately looked at the screen. I had dropped. Suddenly, I could think of nothing but the hospital and I was in hysterics. I bit my tongue hoping it would stop the tears. I had to ask the pulmonologist to please bring my mother into the room for support. I've never had to do that either. It was then that I realized how much damage the hospital did to me mentally. I was so stressed out that morning that I could hardly eat. During my sobb-fest I appreciated the pulmonologist not speaking or judging me. They were obviously used to this reaction from other patients. Still I was grateful. I hated crying in front of people, it made me feel weak. After some needed time and talking, my amazing mother helped me regain my attitude and I was ready to try another round of tests. I knew the more I relaxed the better it would go so I stood there quietly for a few minutes until I could breathe normally again. I gave it a go and my numbers were up higher, about 4%. I couldn't get more than that though. I left still feeling defeated but incredibly grateful my mother was there. I felt the tears again when we got back to the room. I wanted to go home and sleep and think things over. I had been working out now for little while but still wasn't seeing the improvement on my numbers. Of course my terrible, and unrealistic mind said, "All that work, for nothing." I swear my negativity stems from all the shit I waste my time thinking about. I couldn't think of one happy thing, I couldn't crack one smile. And my poor doctor had to walk in on that. I regret my reaction and attitude I showed him. He didn't deserve it. I was just tired, tired of these numbers. Tired of seeing all of their faces. Tired of the stupid white walls, the tests, the forms and the month to month visits. I was so angry. Turns out my numbers went up 1-2% from last time. I wanted more but I should have been grateful for even that. When I went home I didn't stop my workouts, I didn't want to quit that. If anything, the reminder from the visit just pushed me harder.

Since then (as I've said before) my numbers haven't changed but he gave me three months instead of one for some reason. Since then I have acted more maturely in the office and decided to just accept things.
I feel happier because I have stuck truly to my workouts, even still. I breathe 10 times easier on the treadmill, and have finished a full semester of school. (With all A's). But I'll talk more about school in my next post. So that's part 1 of the update for now. I will try so much harder to keep this updated more often now so I don't have to do these loooooong part 1, part 2 things.